The Artists of America: a Series of Biographical Sketches of American Artists: With Portraits and Designs on Steel

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Baker & Scribner, 1846 - 257 páginas
 

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Página 50 - And mounts in spray the skies, and thence again Returns in an unceasing shower, which round, With its unemptied cloud of gentle rain, Is an eternal April to the ground, Making it all one emerald : — how profound The gulf! and how the giant element From rock to rock leaps with delirious bound, Crushing the cliffs, which, downward worn and rent With his fierce footsteps, yield in chasms a fearful vent...
Página 53 - Away to the Dismal Swamp he speeds — His path was rugged and sore, Through tangled juniper beds of reeds, Through many a fen, where the serpent feeds, And man never trod before.
Página 33 - For it's always fair weather When good fellows get together, With a stein on the table and a good song ringing clear.
Página 255 - PEEP of DAY ; or, a Series of the Earliest Religious Instruction the Infant Mind is capable of receiving. With Verses illustrative of the Subjects.
Página 18 - And it came to pass, as they Were burying a man, that, behold, they spied a band of men; and they cast the man into the sepulchre of Elisha : and when the man was let down, and touched the bones of Elisha, he revived, and stood up on his feet.
Página 225 - You will be told of some wintry chill, some casual indisposition, that laid her low; — but no one knows of the mental malady which previously sapped her strength, and made her so easy a prey to the spoiler. She is like some tender tree, the pride and beauty of the grove; graceful in its form, bright in its foliage, but with the worm preying at its heart. We find it suddenly withering, when it should be most fresh and luxuriant. We see it drooping its branches to the earth, and shedding leaf by...
Página 39 - One taste provoked another; and he reiterated his visits to the flagon so often that at length his senses were overpowered, his eyes swam in his head, gradually declined, and he fell into a deep sleep. On waking, he found himself on the green knoll whence he had first seen the old man of the glen.
Página 53 - On waking, he found himself on the green knoll from whence he had first seen the old man of the glen. He rubbed his eyes — it was a bright sunny morning. The birds were hopping and twittering among the bushes, and the eagle was wheeling aloft, and breasting the pure mountain breeze. "Surely," thought Rip, "I have not slept here all night.
Página 51 - We in one mother's arms were locked, — Long be her love repaid ; In the same cradle we were rocked, Round the same hearth we played. Our boyish sports were all the same, Each little joy and woe ; Let manhood keep alive the flame, Lit up so long ago. We are but two, — be that the band To hold us till we die ; Shoulder to shoulder let us stand, Till side by side we lie.
Página 128 - In a word, GILBERT STUART was, in its widest sense, a philosopher in his art : he thoroughly understood its principles, as his works bear witness, whether as to the harmony of colors or of lines, or of light and shadow — showing that exquisite sense of a whole, which only a man of genius can realize and embody.

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